


The Illidari

by Statyck



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21931216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Statyck/pseuds/Statyck
Summary: Illidan greatly respects his lieutenant. That does not exempt her from the political workings of his cult.
Relationships: Illidan x OC
Kudos: 17





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost from FF.net. I found this site and decided I liked it better.

This was a rare event. A pair of men stood opposite each other in the middle of the temporary ring. One was very noticeably larger than the other, but the smaller one didn't seem fazed in the least. He readied his glaives and the night elf opposite him did nothing. The blinded man waited, listening for the sound of his opponent's weapon, and the battle was over just like that.

"Throwing it is generally a good idea against a simple creature." The elder stated, holding the glaive against the other's throat. "Such as an imp or a lion. However against a more sentient enemy you may as well just hand it over."

"I'll keep that in mind, Lord Illidan. Thank you for your help." And the new recruit was left to train with his new weapons on his own.

Lilythae had very conflicted feelings about her master.

In many ways Lord Illidan was a respectable leader, if such a thing ever existed. She admired him greatly. Instead of barking orders from his lavish palace he fought alongside his followers. He took an active role in the workings of his Illidari. He presided over ceremonies welcoming the few who survived the transformations. He made time to assist in training when he could, though their numbers had grown to the point that it was unusual for anyone to get any kind of training with him anymore. He spoke with scouts himself, drafted battle plans himself, and he was happy to take opinions from his lieutenants. Even if his possessions were a little finer than those of his followers, he didn't lord it over them. He demanded nothing from them other than their trust and their respect.

As well as their devotion and their obedience.

The one and only thing that Lilythae did not like about Illidan was that the demon hunters treated him almost like a deity, as though he were a force to be worshipped akin to the Light or Elune herself. And he reveled in it. Always they said to trust in Lord Illidan's plan, but as one of his lieutenants Lilythae knew how dangerous that could be. Though he was powerful and exceptionally knowledgeable Illidan was just a man, and his followers were incredibly young.

Illidan had been alive for thousands of years where many of the elves here – night and blood alike – were barely more than children. They had experienced the pain of becoming orphaned, of losing brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, and the new recruits were maybe twenty years old on average.

Lilythae herself had experienced her own painful loss. A loss that had filled her heart with grief and a rage potent enough to burn down the remnants of the destroyed city to rubble.

And it was that very grief and anger that Illidan preyed on.

"You appear distracted." A voice rang out, deep, rich, and just vaguely threatening. "Is something on your mind?"

"Not at all, my lord." Lilythae answered, her own voice soft and tranquil. She was sitting down with a cup of warm chocolate, sipping every so often as she enjoyed her brief break. She rather liked to watch the training matches, even when she'd spent all day teaching basic techniques to newbies. Illidan arched a single black eyebrow.

"You aren't very convincing." He pried. "Speak your mind and be done with it."

"I'm just thinking about Mardum. I know it's still a week away, but I am making peace with the possibility of my death." She smoothly lied. She admired Illidan, yes, but she knew better.

"Oh?"

"If I succeed, then I am one step closer to vengeance. If I die…"

"If you die…?"

"Then I get to see my loved ones again. I'd like to think that either way, things will end well for me but…." She shrugged. For a moment Illidan was silent, then he beckoned to her with a single clawed hand. The message was clear. _Follow me._

He led her through the halls and out the entryway and started heading away from the temple. Further and further out, almost as if he were luring her away from the other demon hunters.

Almost an hour had passed before the pair encountered a small troupe of demons. It wasn't until he left her to deal with them that she entertained the anxiety that began to cloud her mind. Illidan hadn't spoken a word, and he knew what she could do. He knew she'd make short work of the scouts, they had taken no more than five seconds of her time, and yet he watched her now the way he'd watched her the first time they'd gone hunting together: observant, critical, waiting to see if she'd fail.

_Why?_

She made her way back and craned her neck to look up into his face. Lilythae would have been lying if she said she wasn't afraid of Illidan. She would have been stupid to be comfortable in his presence. She knew exactly what he was capable of, what he had done in the past, and what he intended to do in the future. She suspected he knew what she thought of him, and though he didn't outright harm those within the Illidari for idle questions and concerns he would not hesitate to kill her if she pissed him off.

At this point they had to be miles away from the Black Temple, and even if they were situated right in the center of the damned place she would receive no help. No one would dare stand up to Illidan. In fact if he killed her right in front of them, they'd think it well-deserved. In spite of her various displays of loyalty, time and again, they would believe what Illidan told them.

And yet he chose to bring her out here.

If there was one thing the other Stormrage twin respected it was courage. Right now that was all she had to offer in her confusion as she stared up at him, waiting for him to speak.

Almost immediately his hand snapped out, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her into a nearby boulder. She cried out, startled, and her fingers instinctively rose to her throat to pry at her masters talons.

"You're not much of a liar, Lilythae." He growled. "The Illidari are so close. We almost have the Legion, and I will _not_ have your distrust of me destroying our chance." And with that he threw her to the ground, coughing and regaining her breath. He walked away as he spoke. "Now tell me: what has this distrust stemmed from?"

Slowly Lilythae let her eyes flicker up. Illidan was casually leaning against one of the many fel-tinted boulders that littered Shadowmoon Valley. He stared out into the distance with his back to her, a breeze lightly tousling his long black hair. No doubt he was listening for her to get up. Slowly, she sat back on her knees and took a sip from the water skin at her hip. She took the time to think about what to say next. It was abundantly clear. Illidan had taken her out here to decide whether or not to kill her. If she wanted to survive this encounter she had to choose her words extremely carefully.

"It is not that I don't trust you, Illidan." She said slowly, her voice echoing softly in the air. "But I think many of the Illidari are akin to lost children. Not once have I seen you recruit someone who is sane, who is not drowning in their emotions, or under Kael'Thas's spell."

"You think me manipulative." He filled in, continuing to glare out at the landscape. _Yes._ Lilythae thought. _Exactly it._

"I think you know this world in ways we do not. I think you are charismatic. I think you have suffered greatly, and I think it is you who wants vengeance most of all. You have let it consume you, and you use the pain of others in the hopes of furthering your goals." She said. Illidan's gaze lazily turned back to her.

"And tell me, Lilythae, how is it that _I've_ suffered. Do you know?"

For a moment she wondered if he was toying with her. On occasion the man seemed insane, with his soft rantings about Tyrande and Malfurion. It would be difficult to _not_ know what Illidan's problem was. The longer she stared at him, the angrier she got. _Screw this._ She thought. _I will not play his games. I may as well die with dignity._

"I could ask you the same question." She answered, a hint of ire tainting her voice. "Do you know how _I've_ suffered? How any of the rest of us have suffered? Do you honestly care as much about _our_ stories as the others believe you do?" There was a brief pause as Illidan's eyebrows shot up. She had actually taken him by surprise, and for a moment he almost looked to be at a loss for what to do. It was quickly replaced by an expression so impassive that Lilythae wondered if she had imagined it.

"You lost your child." He stated softly. "You lost her to the demons, and you burned your neutral city to the ground, killing any and all who might have survived." He turned the rest of the way, and though a simple blindfold decorated his face she could still feel his gaze boring through her. "You find me lacking in compassion, yet you have committed crimes just as terrible as mine. I have no use for you if you will treat me with contempt."

Immediately, Illidan rushed her and she just barely managed to dodge the blade that had been dead set on slicing her in half.

"The Illidari worship the ground you walk on!" Lilythae snarled. "Have you no appreciation for that?!" And she threw her glaive at Illidan's head. Even in spite of the enormous horns sprouting from his skull he managed to dodge the heavy metal blade with ease, entirely unimpressed. He raised a hand and caught it as it returned. He threw it back down to her feet.

"Perhaps you should have spent more time training, rather than mulling over my leadership choices. Didn't you hear what I was telling that recruit earlier?" But just as he finished speaking, she rushed up to him, her fel magic stinging him, and swung the other glaive across his body. He dodged at the last second, but he hadn't evaded her completely. A shallow cut had opened across Illidan's chest, trailing down to his chiseled stomach. Though it healed almost instantaneously, his face quickly contorted into something violent and Lilythae felt her own stomach drop.

She'd pissed him off. She'd seen what Lord Illidan did to the people who pissed him off.

Quickly he grabbed her by her horns and threw her. Lilythae expanded her wings and let herself glide back to the ground. She stumbled and fell back into a boulder, but before she could right herself Illidan had materialized before her and with one hand pinned her wrists above her head. With the other he held his own glaive at her stomach, the metal grazing her exposed skin. Though she knew it wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference, she found herself cursing her clothing choices.

Demon hunters liked to show off their tattoos. That reigned true for them all, but that didn't mean it was practical.

"It'll look suspicious if you return without me." She stated, silently cursing the shakiness in her voice. She wasn't going to escape. At this point she knew that, but if she could stall just a moment more she really could make her peace with death. Her demonic power might have been damn near as potent as his, but when it came to matters of physical strength she was still nearly four feet shorter than Illidan's metamorphosis. There was no way she could overpower him, not like this.

_I could try and use my magic._ She mused. _But even then I still don't think I'll win._

"Like you said, they worship the ground I walk on. I can tell them something happened to you. Maybe we were ambushed by demons. Perhaps one of Azeroth's self-proclaimed heroes got lucky. There are plenty of things that could have resulted in your untimely demise." Illidan hissed, studying her a moment before letting his glaive trail just a little lower. She could feel the metal as it wandered her skin, freezing the flesh, before it finally fell away. Yet he continued to hold her against the rock. Illidan sighed.

"Well? Are you going to kill me?" The woman questioned.

"You're that eager to die?" He asked.

"No. But if you're going to do it, I'd like it over with." Lilythae said. She watched as her master lowered his head, careful to avoid the sharp points of her curved horns. He stopped just centimeters away from her face.

"I have no desire to kill you." He murmured. He dropped the glaive and his fingers came up to trace the violet swirls decorating her pale flesh. It wasn't until his thumb stopped just beneath her breast that it really clicked.

Oh.

_Oh._

Needless to say, Lilythae was not prepared.

/*\

Illidan had very conflicted feelings regarding his lieutenant. Her power was daunting. Her petite body held an enormous amount of fel energy and strength, and she only just barely used it. It might have gone unnoticed if not for the steady thrumming glow that encased her silhouette.

Illidan had traded in his eyes for a sort of spectral sight. Perhaps not strictly because he wanted to, but that wasn't the point. This tiny elf woman, unremarkable in every way, held enough power to rival his own. On top of that, she could keep that power in check. He had never once seen her lose control. In fact it was so seamless, so well-bound, he sometimes wondered if she was even aware it existed. Though she didn't know, that was what initially earned her the promotion. He wanted to keep that kind of magic close. There were no physical implications of her strength and yet her aura glowed, invisible to all but her peers. She was as bright as the moon whereas most of the others were little more than the pinpricks of stars.

Now this didn't mean the other women of the Illidari escaped his attention. He most certainly had his own fun with them. His own pain was difficult to wash away, and he wouldn't say no if a pretty girl wanted to offer him a moment of solace. They were all too happy to serve their master in whatever way he pleased, and well, he wanted to be _pleased._

He had his pick before any other man within the ranks. He could have whoever he wanted whenever he wanted, and yet none of his encounters were as satisfying as he might have liked them to be. His intimate partners were too complacent, too concerned with his desires. It was fun to be domineering, but he received submission so easily. It had gotten so boring.

At this point in his life he couldn't decide if he wanted this or not. Right now he was at war. He was doing something important. Trying to pursue an emotional connection would not end well, for him or the woman. Still he knew that, eventually at least, he wanted a woman who saw _him_ rather than the borderline god he sold to the elves who chose to follow him. Someone who saw him and looked at him not with disgust but something else. Lilythae certainly seemed to see him. Unlike the others, male and female alike, she did not grovel at his feet. She behaved professionally and got things done, but she remained distant. Unlike many of the other demon hunters she refused to take comfort in the embrace of one of her fellow Illidari, though he knew she used to get many propositions.

He'd quickly put a stop to that.

To the best he could figure she rejected romance and intimacy because of her daughter. He could not say this for all of his followers but he remembered the day he'd met Lilythae. She'd once been a talented mage, her magic had been the thing he noticed first. In her despair flames consumed buildings and demons and people alike. She had been entirely out of control, wild and untamed. She didn't care who she'd hurt as long as her wrath was appeased.

He didn't know if he admired or pitied her. Perhaps both.

To the point, she was not to be trifled with. From the very beginning she had been aloof and her distant nature persisted. She had proven her loyalty many times over with the deaths of high profile demons and the exposing of traitors within their ranks. Always she performed above and beyond for him, treating him with the respect he deserved but unlike the other women she never jumped at the chance to spend a night in his chamber. In fact she'd seemed rather insulted when he first made an advance. That was where she'd drawn the line.

He wasn't used to lines.

Illidan began to catch himself. Sometimes he would stare a moment too long, letting his gaze ravage her exposed torso. Sometimes he'd speak her name, giving her menial tasks just so he'd have an excuse to look at her. He had even found himself fantasizing about what it might be like if she ever let him remove the too-long skirt that hid her legs.

As he tried to increase his encounters with her he found that she was not as simple as the women who shared his bed. She helped in the first aid tents and did her best to offer emotional support to the newest recruits. She was certainly an asset in the war room and her tongue was as sharp as her glaive. She could cut down any demon in her path with little effort, and she rarely returned with harsh injuries. She was as beautiful as she was clever, and though it was certainly an attractive combination it meant something else: she didn't buy his bullshit.

He found that he was rather surprised at himself. After the high priestess of the moon, he figured he was done with this. Her disinterest had been made clear, because the priestess was not impressed by his dark sorcery. She had wanted Malfurion's light, his natural power. She wanted things that were inherently good, pale in her black and white world, and Illidan hadn't been it. She was the one who had rejected him. The one who had pushed him in this direction. The one who, in spite of everything, he still completely adored. In his hurt and his fury he sold his soul to the demons, much like how he persuaded these young elves to sell their souls to him.

Somehow he had made his peace with that. He knew he would always love her. If his affection survived ten thousand years while he rotted away in a cell, nothing could destroy it. She had been his ruin in every way imaginable, and in spite of his exhaustion he still bore no ill will against her. Yet by some miracle Tyrande no longer plagued his mind. Instead the newest object of his obsession lay stretched out on a large rock, her wrists bound in his hand while the other explored the blood elf's creamy skin. Unlike many of the other demon hunters – himself included – her flesh had not become discolored and scaly. At least he assumed it hadn't been discolored. He could see the outline of her face, the length of her hair, the energy in her eyes, but his color perception had almost completely vanished. He could see the magic that imbued her body, not _her_.

However he could see that her eyes had remained intact during her transformation. Oddly enough she still wore a blindfold. A set of delicate ram horns sat atop a crown of long, silky hair bound severely into a braid. He caught sight of a pair of tiny fangs as she grimaced at him, awaiting his verdict as he trailed his fingers along the bright runes that decorated her form in violet energy.

"I have no desire to kill you." He hummed. He let his sight meet hers and a flash of terror shot across her face. Illidan froze, hand stilling on her body. Her grimace turned into a frown, and her gaze fell to his chest, the deep purple flesh and his glowing green marks. Quickly Illidan removed his hands, freeing her, and he tilted her face back up. He pulled away the blindfold, allowing it to fall to the ground, and he let his lips descend on hers.

He had reason to think she didn't want him. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, but before that he wanted to at least know what this one tasted like. In her surprise she froze up, and even better, her lips were just slightly parted.

The first thing to cross his mind was that Lilythae tasted like the cup of chocolate she'd been drinking earlier. Sweet and spicy and warm. He let his tongue lightly graze her fangs, but still she did not reciprocate. Nor did she resist. Illidan pulled away for a moment to assess her, to gauge her response, and she stared up at him owlishly.

"Really?!" She whispered.

"I've asked you to bed before. Why are you surprised?" To this she narrowed her eyes and turned away.

"True. This isn't new, but you also haven't made that request since you made me a lieutenant. I assumed you'd come to respect me." She snapped. Illidan straightened.

"Explain."

"I will _not_ be a member of your harem." She stated. "I won't lie and say I don't admire you Illidan. You've done much for Azeroth, and in exchange gained the wrath of its people. In spite of that you still continue on, trying to eradicate the legion in the hopes of saving us. Without you they would have already destroyed a great deal more. I would follow you to the ends of the earth. All the same, I will not just let you exploit me." And then lower. "No matter how sexy your magic is."

Illidan quirked a brow.

"You think my magic is sexy? Is that what you just said?" He asked, too mystified to truly be angry. Though it irked him that she spoke to him so casually, that one little statement entirely made up for it. After all, he _wanted_ to impress whatever woman he pursued. Though he had certainly been much more of a show off when he was younger, that didn't mean he'd changed completely.

"That's all you got from that?" She scoffed. "Many of the girls who throw themselves at you are blood elf. In sin'dorei culture, arcane talent is considered extremely attractive."

What an interesting turn this conversation had taken. He took her out here to kill her, and instead gave in to the urge to kiss her, touch her, and take her clothes off. Though he hadn't quite made it to that latter stage just yet, she hadn't outright rejected him. Rather he gained an admission from her. The realization left him feeling quite, well, satisfied. Yet he wanted more.

"You were a powerful sorceress yourself." He replied. "I've witnessed your mortal power myself. A weak man would not suit you, but surely I've proven myself." It wasn't a question.

"Time and again." She said slowly. "But my point stands. I am not a whore. Not for you or anyone else."

"What makes you think I view you as a whore?" He demanded. Lilythae raised an eyebrow.

"What do you use the Den of Mortal Delights for, Illidan?"

He slammed his fists into the rock on either side of her head. She didn't even flinch.

"That is _Lord_ Illidan to you." He snarled, then calmer. "What is it that you want, Lilythae?"

"I don't follow."

"Why do you refuse?" He asked. "Many would consider it an honor to lie with me."

"Then it is an honor you bestow carelessly." She immediately shot back. "I am tired. My brother made me watch as he murdered my husband. Then I found my child-" She stopped. "To the point: I have nothing left. I still grieve for them both, and I cannot bring myself to just sleep with anything that walks. Kill me or leave me be, but pick one."

Slowly Illidan backed away. Her refusal both infuriated him to no end and excited him, but he wouldn't permit her to see that. He'd gotten the answer he was searching for. Now he just needed to figure out what to do with it.

"I see." He said. "In that case return to the Black Temple. Do whatever it was you were doing before I so rudely interrupted you."

He didn't give her a chance to respond before he bolted off somewhere, vanishing before her eyes.


	2. Two

In spite of herself, Lilythae rather liked the Den of Mortal Delights. It was a wonderful place to sit down and unwind, and though the Illidari could be rather loud during their little sessions with the courtesans, it was usually pleasantly quiet. At least during the day it was.

Today was one of the quiet days. As always there were people in the back, panting and moaning, but today she could relax into one of the large chaises in the corner and sip at a glass of wine. She had finished all of her duties for the day, and she figured it would be a good place to hide during this hour. Concubines and succubi wandered about, quietly chatting among themselves as the male guards kept watch.

The Den really didn't fit with the rest of the Black Temple. Elegant silk tapestries hung from walls and lavish beds littered the room. Lit candles stood on tables, fur and silk rugs softened the floor, and it was always well-stocked with fresh food. Though it was mostly only for the concubines, those of higher status could feast within the Den. She often found herself wondering if it had really been Lord Illidan who built this place, or if it had been someone else. Just as Lilythae got comfortable and began to let her eyes slide closed, a voice called out.

"Hi Lily!" It chirped. "What brings you here today?"

The demon hunter opened her eyes and let a faint smile grace her lips. Women also occasionally solicited the services of the courtesans. Though Lilythae had never chosen to lay with any of them, that didn't stop her from befriending one or two.

"Hello Feyly." Lilythae greeted. "How are you today?"

Feylys' presence in the Den perturbed Lilythae for more than one reason. For starters she looked incredibly young, though the elf insisted she was nearing her fourth decade. She lacked the calm eroticism that many of the courtesans possessed, being bright and cheerful rather than quietly seductive. She seemed far too… _innocent_ to be leading a life of any contentment within the Den, but she insisted that she was happy.

But then the courtesans were offered many luxuries in exchange for their services, from the finest silks to the most comfortable of beds. Though it was the sin'dorei who had more of a reputation for being a rather spoiled race, Feyly seemed to appreciate the finer things in life. She was the only night elf who resided there.

"I'm good." The courtesan said, absentmindedly combing her fingers through her long violet hair. "It's been slow today, so I took the opportunity to have my bath a little bit early. I got to have the spring all to myself." She boasted, her silver eyes glowing. Lilythae made a face.

"I wish I could use the spring. I know I'm supposed to be a badass because I kill demons, but that doesn't mean I like being covered in demon guts all the time." She muttered. Feyly laughed.

"Well I'm sure that I could get Mother Shahraz's permission for you. Lord Illidan isn't in there right now, so it should be fine." Then lower. "If you do odd favors for her, she'll let you do just about anything." Lilythae just giggled and shook her head.

"No, it's fine. There are rivers in Terokkar. I can go there when I get some free time." She said. Feyly's eyebrows immediately furrowed.

"But your mission is so close. You're making so many preparations. Will you get time?" To this Lilythae said nothing. "I'll go ask." And before the demon hunter could make any further protest, her friend left without a word. Lilythae only sighed, and stared down into her wine glass.

She had never expected that Lord Illidan would actually spare her life. Even less that he would actually try to persuade her to spend the night with him. Though she was loathe to admit it, he had frightened her greatly.

Feyly was quick to return. She bounded up to Lilythae, her silks flowing around her slender form, and grinned.

"We have approval, let's go down to the bath."

/*\

Illidan stalked through the halls and back to his own chamber. He wasn't entirely certain what to do about Lilythae. His actions yesterday had certainly put a strain on whatever relationship he had with her. He hadn't seen her once yet, and he didn't think that would bode very well for him. She was supposed to lead that mission in Mardum in six days and if she was worrying over whether or not he'd kill her the next time he saw her, well, that could very well affect her performance in the field.

What he had done was idiotic, he knew that, but then Illidan wasn't exactly known for being a patient man. He wanted her. Soon.

He strode over to his window and stared out. In the distance there was an odd assortment of people wandering through Shadowmoon. He grimaced. Ever since he ensnared Maiev, people had been coming into the valley trying to "save" her.

Maiev Shadowsong was not a woman who needed saving.

She could have gotten out any time she liked, he would have guessed. The only reason she didn't was because she knew, deep down in her heart, that if she succeeded in her goal of killing him she would be nothing. Her purpose in this world would be gone, and she wouldn't know what to do with herself. He sometimes wondered if the chase had driven her mad.

For ten thousand years, she kept him locked away in a cell. The love of his life had freed him, and Maiev had been so angry. He would've thought she'd have found him long before now. She was smart, strong, and entirely reckless. Though he was fairly certain the attraction was mutual, he wanted to kill her just a tad more than he wanted to bed her. After all, ten thousand years was an awful lot of time and it had been completely wasted under her watch. But he had no remorse, he assumed she would sooner kill him than sleep with him too.

All the same, he could not permit this group of adventurers to release her. His mission here was far too important. Maiev might swallow her pride and pretend to let herself be saved, but after that all bets were off. He needed her to stay put until he was in a less compromising position, so he sent word to the guards and that was that.

He started absentmindedly whispering incantations, and created tiny illusions within the confines of his chamber. Memories of Tyrande, and the last time she'd smiled at him. The final conversation he'd had with Maiev, her hostility tangible. Fantasies of the things he wanted to do to Lilythae, watching the images and thinking it didn't look quite right. Though the situation with Lilythae most certainly shouldn't have been the first thing on his mind, it was.

" _I am tired...I have nothing left. I still grieve for them both, and I cannot bring myself to just sleep with anything that walks."_

The more and more he thought about it, the more obvious it seemed to be. Lilythae was not a naturally promiscuous creature. Though it would have made his end goal a little easier, it was not a situation beyond his capabilities. Her voice had sounded so hollow and defeated. She desired comfort, it was just that her idea of comfort was a little bit different from his.

She respected him, he knew that. She had given up any hope of returning to blood elf society when she promised herself to his cause. She knew what the transformation would entail, all of the elves did, and they only did it because he had managed to convince them that he was worth following. That or Kael'Thas had instructed them. Either way they had put massive amounts of trust and faith in him. Though maybe Lilythae was right in that he didn't fully appreciate their devotion, he could certainly understand the weight of his actions on an intellectual level.

He knew that he probably ruined whatever chances these men and women would have had at rebuilding a normal life. After all the different affairs the demon hunters had with one another, _someone_ should have gotten pregnant by now. He didn't know if it was because the fel energy corroded their bodies that deeply or if it was something else entirely, but he knew that the two races of elves could face extinction very soon and that it most certainly didn't help that he siphoned the numbers from both sides.

It was rare for members of an immortal race to bear children. With their immortality gone, he didn't know if the night elves would be able to procreate fast enough to preserve the species. After the Sunwell had been destroyed, the majority of the high elf population had been completely wiped out. It had been genocide to a horrifying degree. There was no telling if the resulting race, blood elves, would be able to rebuild their numbers.

But even if the elves vanished, their efforts here today could lead to a safer world for all of the other people that inhabited Azeroth. Though he didn't particularly care for the likes of the Orcs or the Humans or the Dwarves or any of the rest of them really, he didn't think they deserved the fate that the Legion had in mind for them.

That had to count for something, right?

He banished his tawdry illusions with the wave of his hand and sighed. Thinking in this direction would do him no good. Even if he wanted to, there was no way he could reverse the transformations. He couldn't restore these people back to what they once were. Hell, he couldn't even restore _himself_. He had to live with the consequences of his actions, and so did they.

Maybe some time in the Den might ease his mind.

/*\

Lilythae sighed happily as Feyly rinsed her snowy white hair with flower-scented water. The hot spring was the nicest spot in the entire temple. It was underground, lit by tiny fel wisps floating through the air. The spring itself vaguely reminded her of oceanic tide pools, one here, one there, and all of random shapes and sizes. They were all deep enough to hold people, but someone had definitely carved the seats. Sheer curtains separated the pools, giving tiny hints of privacy, and the hunter happily spoke to her companion.

"I forgot how much I used to love things like this." Lilythae commented. "Hot baths, scented water, actual _soap_. Suddenly I've learned to appreciate how easy I used to have it."

"Well I can't relate." Feyly retorted. "I still have it easy." She giggled as Lilythae stuck her tongue out at her.

"Indeed you do." The demon hunter muttered. Another bucket of water doused her head and Lilythae quickly spoke to her friend. "You don't have to do that you know. I am capable of bathing myself."

"I know." Feyly answered. "But I already had my bath, and I'd rather dump water on your head than let Torin have his way with me again." She shuddered. Lilythae's eyebrows furrowed.

"I find that worrying. You've never complained about any of the demon hunters before." To this Feyly seemed to shrink. A terrible grimace crossed her mouth, and the expression marred the pretty little stripe tattoos that decorated her cheeks and accented her eyelids. She almost looked like she had a dragonfly imprinted on her face, but the wings were crushed in her momentary despair. She clutched the bucket looking almost scared, as though she realized she said something she shouldn't have. Finally she seemed to steel herself and began to speak.

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong I like the other hunters. They're usually very sweet, but Torin…" She trailed off.

"What's he done?" Lilythae asked.

"Well he hasn't done anything _wrong_. Technically." Feyly quickly muttered. "That being said, he likes to scratch and bite. And not sexy scratching and biting. It actually really hurts. I tried to hand him off to one of the other girls who are into that sort of thing, but he just keeps coming back to me."

"He's left marks on you?" Lilythae pressed, her voice beginning to rise. "If so you can go straight to Lord Illidan. That's against the rules, and I imagine especially since it's you. You are the only kal'dorei courtesan. You're special."

"Maybe." Feyly responded, giggling slightly, but then she spoke softer. "But that's the thing. I don't have any marks. I don't know what Torin did before he was a demon hunter, but he's very good at healing magic. He always makes sure to patch up the wound before anyone else can see what he did. There's nothing I can do." She stated forlornly. With that, Feyly took a bottle of shampoo and began combing it through Lilythae's hair.

"Maybe there's something _I_ can do." Lilythae whispered. At Feylys' panicked look the hunter quickly calmed her down. "I'm not going to report him. I won't even confront the bastard about it. As one of Lord Illidans' lieutenants I can make schedule changes. We've got a supply run tomorrow. I can switch him out for someone else. It should keep him out of your hair for at least two weeks. I'll see if I can't figure something out in that time."

"Thanks Lily." Feyly said. "You're the best." And with that everything fell silent once more, that is, until Feylys' hands lowered, beginning to massage Lilythae's shoulders.

"Feyly." Lilythae murmured. "What have I told you about molesting me?" The concubine sighed.

"You don't even let me get down to your boobs anymore." She pouted. "Can you really blame me for trying though? You've got to be one of the most beautiful women in the Illidari. I want in your pants." She teased. Lilythae's eyes darkened.

"You and everyone else."

/*\

Illidan couldn't decide if he was amused or annoyed. He'd decided to move down to the baths with one of his favorite women, a pretty little elf named Marhail, when he realized he would not be alone in the spring.

He'd gotten there just in time to hear one of his hunters scold one of the courtesans. Under any other circumstance it would have sounded flirtatious, but now? No. He recognized the voice, and he knew immediately that it was the one and only person in the entire temple who would reject the advances of the only night elf mistress. Feyly tried to tell her how pretty she was, but Lilythae was having none of it. It would have been cute, how disappointed the young consort looked, if it wasn't for the wave of jealousy that roiled down in Illidan's stomach. Lilythae actually appeared to be relaxed under the other woman's touch, where she had been reluctant to let him just caress her face.

But then, he had been going to kill her.

The two women fell silent immediately, surprised expressions flashing across both faces before they nodded to him respectfully.

"Hello Lilythae." Illidan greeted, smoothly sinking into the pool next to hers. Slowly the woman responded.

"Lord Illidan." She said, slightly bowing her head.

"Feyly." He said, shifting his attention. "I noticed upstairs you have someone waiting for you."

"I have to finish up with Lily first, my lord." She said. "I promise, I will get to them in a timely fashion."

"You may as well go now, young one." Illidan pressed. "Something tells me Lilythae will not accept your advances. Go, please the young woman who wishes to see you. Marhail can attend to us both."

"A woman?" Feyly blurted, startled. "I mean, yes my lord." She quickly corrected herself. "Bye Lily." She said softly, waving.

"Goodbye Feyly." Lilythae answered, her voice warmer. For a moment all was silent. Illidan felt Marhail gently pull his hair out of its half-tail, and she silently poured water over his head. She was just reaching for the shampoo when Illidan spoke again.

"'Lily'?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at his lieutenant. She only shrugged, looking down into the water.

"It makes her happy, my lord." She mumbled.

"And you care about Feyly's happiness?" He inquired, lazily staring at her as his attendant lightly massaged his shoulders. Lilythae looked at him uneasily, taking the comb from the side of her pool. She was careful not to let him see anything beneath her collarbone as she groomed her own hair. How annoying.

"I do." She said. "Feyly is my friend. Though I do not wish to lay with the courtesans, I like the Den."

"And why is that?" He inquired. He could almost taste her discomfort.

"It's relaxing, my lord." For a moment she let her gaze drop down. Illidan remained silent. He turned away from her, staring up at the rocky ceiling. He was about to instruct Marhail to shift her attentions when the sound of a loud ruckus emanated from the doorway. Screaming could be heard, as well as the sounds of the Illidari swearing and furniture breaking. Lilythae looked like she was about to jump from the pool when he held a hand up, motioning for her to stop.

"Something's wrong." He stated. "Marhail, attend to Lilythae. This shouldn't take long."

"But I can–" Lilythae started, but Illidan shot her a hard look.

"I'll take care of it." He hissed. Immediately he jumped out of the pool, his hooves dripping water. He clothed himself fast enough that he knew Lilythae wouldn't have had time to see anything, and sped up the stairs.

/*\

Marhail watched in awe as Lord Illidan bounded up the hall, forbidding the other hunter from participating in whatever fight that had erupted upstairs. Hesitantly she moved to kneel behind the horned woman, gingerly moving her hair as the shrill screaming continued. It was uncomfortable to say the least. Marhail couldn't help but glance at the doorway every few seconds, waiting for something to happen. It didn't. 

Marhail didn't know very much about Lilythae, but she knew that she was the only hunter who refused to take lovers. She even rejected Lord Illidan's attention. She liked to come to the Den to sleep and make conversation with Feyly, but that was it.

As the concubine silently combed the woman's hair, something caught her eye. There was a scar on Lilythae's left shoulder. Scars weren't uncommon among the Illidari, but this one very plainly didn't come from battle. For starters, the wound hadn't been deep. It had been just enough to create a very soft scar, barely visible to the naked eye. Teeth marks were forever engraved into Lilythae's skin. They made up a loose oval encasing the curve of her shoulder. Four larger dots marked where someone's canines might be, and if Marhail had no comprehension of night elf culture she would've had no idea what it was.

It was a healed kal'dorei mating mark.

Marhails first thought was that it had to be Illidans. His insistence that Lilythae stay behind could have been interpreted as contempt at first glance, but Marhail knew her lord a little better than many of the other consorts in the Den. After all, she was one of his favorites. He was the only man allowed to touch her. Marhail had spent a great deal of time with him.

She knew favoritism when she saw it. Illidan had been very focused on the lieutenant for some time. He approached his personal harem less and less. The last time Marhail herself had lain with him had to have been at least a month ago. Though she wasn't that emotionally invested in her lord, she knew the others would be devastated.

His reaction to Feyly had been her first clue. Illidan rarely got jealous over anything, so when he did he wasn't very good at hiding it. His insistence that Feyly leave had seemed a bit odd. She had only been washing Lilythae's hair, and even if she'd made other advances the hunter had rejected them.

All the same Illidan had lost his shit over it. He quietly lost his shit, but he still lost it.

Her second clue was his prying. Illidan didn't often inquire after the hunters' personal lives. He didn't care who they chose to bed or not bed or just be friends with. He wanted to know all about Lilythae's relationship with Feyly.

Her final clue was the incident upstairs. She knew that other people would notice as well. Feyly, being the only night elf in the temple who lacked horns, was one of the most sought-after concubines among the men and women who used the Den. Her absence was always noticed, especially when she chose to go off with Lilythae somewhere. The people in the Den knew that Feyly had come down to the baths with the lieutenant, just as they knew that Illidan had followed soon after with a personal consort.

And now he'd left that personal consort to take care of a hunter who was in perfect shape to fight. Why would he insist she stay here and get pampered if not because he wanted her? And more than that, because he wanted her approval?

As Marhail stared a little harder at the mark she realized it couldn't possibly belong to her master. Illidans magic would have had a much stronger presence around Lilythaes form if he'd claimed her. In fact, now that she thought about it, Marhail couldn't sense the marks magic hardly at all. It was so weak that even looking for it she had a difficult time seeing it. That was when the realization set in. Oh. Lilythae's mate was dead.

"Take a photo." Lilythae snapped. "It'll last longer."

Marhail jumped and cowered.

"I'm sorry!" She immediately squeaked. "It's just-I thought I was the only one." Marhail cautiously looked up to see Lilythae staring at her inquisitively.

"Explain."

Swiftly, Marhail pulled down the shoulder of her uniform silk dress. She did her best to position herself in the light, and as Lilythae's eyes widened she knew the hunter saw it.

"You were married to a night elf." Lilythae stated. "I can't sense any lingering magic around you. Your husband is dead as well."

"He is." Marhail stated softly. Lilythaes' eyes flew up, meeting Marhails' gaze.

"I am sorry for your loss." She said.

"And I am sorry for yours." The consort answered. Silence permeated the air, and Marhail fiddled with the comb a moment.

"Would you like me to continue on your hair?" She asked. Lilythae shook her head.

"No it's fine. I can take care of myself from here."

"Are you sure? Lord Illidan would be displeased if he were to return and find that I was not seeing to your needs." To this, Lilythae smiled.

"Then I suppose it's alright."

As Marhail sat down on her knees prepping the comb, all she could think to herself was that she needed to come up with a story for this quickly. Once the rest of Illidans consorts caught wind of Lilythaes seemingly heightened status, they would not be pleased.

/*\

Illidan couldn't remember the last time he'd been so pissed off. This little group of adventurers, tiny men with tiny shields, had actually had the audacity to try and invade his temple. He swung his glaives, dismembering a human man with ease. The consorts themselves fought, and as he fended off a draenei paladin he caught sight of Feyly. She had been cornered by a pair of dwarves.

A pair of dwarves with very big guns and all Feyly had was a candlestick.

He momentarily toyed with the idea of letting her die but quickly discarded it. That kind of thinking was worthless. Lilythae would be very unhappy if Feyly met her demise here.

Quickly he darted over, letting his fel energy explode over the area. The dwarves were promptly wounded, and their attention turned to him. They fired, again and again. Unfortunately for them, there was no effect. He moved too fast. He disposed of them quickly and continued on.

His soldiers had managed to eliminate most of the invaders, but much of the damage had already been done. Bodies littered the floor, demon and elf alike. Blood soaked the fine fur rugs, and broken beds and chairs splintered all over the floor.

Once the last of the invaders had been dispatched, many of the hunters returned the Den to count survivors. Several found the bodies of their favorite courtesans and some even broke down crying, holding the corpses close as they let their sadness loose. Illidan turned to see that Feyly had survived the onslaught. She gripped her candlestick tightly in both hands and she was shaking, but she was doing her best to put on a brave front.

"Well." She muttered, seemingly to herself. "That was terrifying."

"Indeed. Return to the baths and let Lilythae know what happened." Then he turned to the rest of the hunters. His voice boomed with anger. "Scour the rest of the temple! I want to know what happened. How the hell did they make it this far without anyone sounding the alarm?!" The demon hunters scurried away, and Illidan wasted no time in following them.

Illidan Stormrage was not unaccustomed to attacks, but this one upset him deeply. There was no way that all of those people had actually managed to stealth their way into his temple, yet there were far too few of them for them to have actually expected to make it. They hadn't released Maiev either, and that bothered him greatly. It had been as though this mission had been designed to fail. It wasn't real.

It was some kind of test.


	3. Three

Lilythae watched as her peers knelt around pyres, for the Illidari and the concubines alike, and said prayers. Some prayed for them to make it to the Light. Others hoped that Elune would take in their souls. Lord Illidan stood some ways away, observing the mass funeral. Once the prayers had finished and the training grounds fell silent, the Lord of Outland spoke.

"What happened here yesterday was a travesty." His voice boomed. For once he did not sound angry or indifferent, but sad. "We lost friends, lovers, those somewhere in between. They offered us strength and comfort alike in our times of need. May their souls rest peacefully in whatever realm they now reside in." Illidan had never been a man of many words, and now was no exception. Lilythae listened as Feyly clutched her hand. The hunter looked over for a brief second and found her friend hanging her head. Her eyes had gone misty and her lip trembled. She was trying desperately not to cry.

Very gently Lilythae squeezed back, and that was it. Her face contorted and she looked to the ground, sobs wracking her frame. Quickly Lilythae pulled her close and let the night elf sob on her shoulder while she observed as each pyre was set aflame, one by one.

It took hours for the fires to die down. By the end of the event almost everyone was sitting, Lord Illidan included. Lilythae still had Feyly tucked into her side, and when it was over she gently prodded her.

"Feyly." Lilythae said. "It's time to get up, the funeral is over. Come on, let's get you back to the Den." Without a word the young woman nodded and the demon hunter pulled the other elf to her feet.

"Lilythae." Illidan said, not looking away from the ashes. "When you are done, return here to me. I wish to speak with you."

/*\

Feyly watched at Lilythae walked away, feeling suddenly vulnerable without the huntress near. She had actually tucked the night elf into a bed, as though she were a child who'd just suffered a nightmare. She'd been too upset to protest, and instead clutched the blanket tighter as Lilythae reassured Feyly that she'd be back later. The other girls were either sleeping, crying, or behaving like nothing happened. It didn't take two minutes for the night elf to hear a girl whisper,

"Now that Anara is gone, maybe I'll finally be able to get Zael to realize I exist." She hissed. "I know he survived. I saw him at the funeral."

Immediately Feyly pulled a pillow over her head. She'd known Anara. The dead concubine had been a very sweet and shy girl. Like most of the others here she hadn't been strong enough to survive the demon hunter transformation. Based on her miniscule mana levels they had been able to tell her that for certain, and so she'd chosen to work the Den instead. Anara had been an only child who lost both her parents in the Scourge attacks, and she hadn't wanted to end up living in the slums of Silvermoon right out of the orphanage. She had wanted a better life, and the Illidari had taken her in no questions asked.

And now these girls were speaking of her as though she had been nothing more than a nuisance. Despite the pillow, Feyly still heard the comments.

"Oh, Irene’s gone? Maybe now we’ll get some quiet."

"Katya too? Pity. For her."

"Maybe I'll get more work now."

And if that wasn't already enough, Feyly heard something truly disturbing.

"One of Lord Illidans girls were lost? Maybe I'll get a promotion."

"Not a chance. He's got an eye on one of those demon hunters. He hardly sleeps with his harem anymore." Swearing. Then a pause.

"Are you sure? The demon hunters love to sleep around. It's probably just a one-time thing."

"Didn't you notice yesterday? That lieutenant, Lilythae Bloodbringer, wasn't at the battle."

"I thought her last name was Starsong?" The other mused. "She was probably somewhere else."

"Nope, she was down in the spring with Feyly. Then our Lord went down as well with Marhail. Feyly came back up right before the attack, and then Lord Illidan showed up. There was no sign of Lilythae or Marhail."

Feyly peeked out from under her pillow. Who was that? She couldn't see. They were on her other side.

"Hey!" One of the women called, then lower, "What was that about yesterday? Why couldn't Lilythae fight?"

"Huh?" A new voice said. Marhail.

"Why did Lord Illidan leave you down in the spring with her?"

"He wanted her to protect me." She answered smoothly. "She was the only other one in the baths, and he didn't want to leave me by myself."

"Please." One of the others scoffed. "Do you really expect us to believe that? His favorite is Kalyne, not you."

"He likes me better than you." She retorted. For a moment everything was silent.

"Tell us the truth." The second woman snarled. "Why did he leave you there?"

"I am not sure what you want me to say. I have told you why. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do." Marhail said dismissively. Then Feyly heard tiny footsteps, and saw Marhail pass her line of vision.

"Maybe we should bring this up to Kalyne." One of the voices hissed as soon as Marhail was out of earshot. "She might be able to solve the problem."

"Don't you think that's a little extreme? It's not like he hasn't slept with other demon hunters."

"No, but I think she's lying. When was the last time Illidan left one of his consorts, his own personal consorts, to tend to someone else?"

"How do you know that's what she was doing though? Marhails' words aren't that far-fetched. Even if she's not exactly the favorite, he's still the only one allowed to touch her. As she said, he does like her better than the rest of us."

"Then why do none of the others, Kalyne even, get guards?" The conversation paused.

"We weren't expecting an attack." The other girl said. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To talk to Kalyne. You might not know this, but I do. Lord Illidan shares the bath with no one. Not even the women. He let her stay there, but sent Feyly away. Doesn't that seem a little strange to you?" A pause.

"Maybe a little. Why did he send Feyly away?"

"No clue. She was up here trying to fight her way out with a candlestick. Can you believe that? A candlestick."

After that they had gotten too far away for her to hear. Feyly waited for a few seconds before she felt it was safe. She pushed aside the pillow and her blanket and headed over to the kitchen area. She couldn't sleep now. She needed coffee.

She didn't think she needed to be worried. Kalyne could be jealous sometimes but she wasn't stupid. The consorts might be, but Kalyne understood the consequences of what it would mean to actively harm one of her masters. Even if she was the favorite, for now, Lilythae outranked her. She would know better than to try and pick a fight with one of the Illidari. Especially one of Illidans' lieutenants.

At least, Feyly really hoped so. Maybe she should talk to Lilythae, just to be safe.

/*\

Lilythae approached Lord Illidan as he stared out at the blackened mounds. The training grounds had been the most reasonable choice to hold the funeral. The winds would have better access to the remaining ashes here. They could take them away from this place and scatter them across the land. Some of the people within the temple had chosen to keep small portions of the ashes in small flasks or vials, to remember those they loved.

Lilythae sincerely hoped that all the piles had been taken from.

"You wished to speak with me, my lord." She stated, standing a few feet behind him. Illidan turned and appraised her.

"That was quick of you." He remarked. "Indeed, I did. You lead our assault on Mardum in five days."

"I do."

"Now that our numbers have been culled," he spat, "you may have to make do with fewer soldiers."

"It won't be an issue. I began editing my battle plans last night, after it was all over. This will go without a hitch." Lilythae assured. Then lower, with a violent expression crossing her face, "I'll _make_ it go without a hitch."

"Good." He said, a faint smile gracing his face. "Are you finished with your alterations, or do you need a little more time?"

"I should be done within the hour."

"Excellent." He stood up with a flourish. "Come to my chambers when you've completed your plans. I'd like to look them over."

"Of course, my lord." She said. As soon as he passed her, she let her eyes fall on the pyres. "So many." She whispered to herself, before turning and taking her own leave. She made her way through the temple to the barracks.

Being one of Illidans' personal lieutenants, Lilythae had a private room all to herself. Most of them did. She had a tiny bathroom off to the side, but it only provided the basics. She couldn't get a shower longer than ten minutes. It didn't even get warm either. It was all about constant endurance training in the Illidari. After all, pampered soldiers made for incompetent enemies.

Her bed was small, but it was comfortable enough. Her tiny wardrobe held four sets of armor, just basic Illidari robes, and a spare set of training glaives. She had a couple of nightdresses, but they were made of linen so scratchy that she oftentimes just slept in her underwear.

The only real luxury she was afforded were her blankets. They were heavy and soft, made from enchanted wool. They didn't get dirty, nor did they wear out. They would last as long as she lived, and though the pillows were rather flat, she wasn't going to complain.

If this was the price to be paid for the privilege of avenging her baby girl, then so be it.

Lilythae sat down at her tiny desk and glared down at the plans. There were certain zones that just absolutely could not afford to lose any soldiers. However it might not be an issue after they opened up the gates for their outside allies. Maybe….

/*\

Illidan laid flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room.

Being the leader of the Illidari he had many luxuries. For starters, his bed wasn't stuffed with hay. His desks were made of fine, rare woods. Silk sin'dorei tapestries draped the walls, each of them having been created especially for him. They were imbued with magic, so he could actually see the shapes imprinted on the cloth.

He had a large amount of space, decorated almost exclusively in fur rugs, and his windows allowed him to view the entirety of Shadowmoon Valley. It was actually a very nice view, all black and green in his peculiar sight, if one could overlook the fact that it had been created by the damned demons.

Quickly he turned as he heard knocking.

_That must be Lilythae._ Though he liked the idea of letting her in and throwing her onto his bed, unfortunately other things had to take precedence. Illidan might be a lot of things, but irresponsible wasn't one of them. If he didn't get these battle plans sorted, then they wouldn't be able to drive the demons out of Mardum. They could not be allowed to get any farther into Azeroth.

He'd throw her on the bed after the discussion was over.

"Come in." He called, but as the intruder entered he realized it wasn't actually Lilythae.

It was Kalyne.

He sat up, walking away from the bed as she made her entrance.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, perplexed. Kalyne was a blood elf, and the self-proclaimed queen of the consorts. For a long time she had been his preferred bed mate. She was pretty, prideful, and powerful, and she was a creature jealous enough to rival Illidan himself. She was very good with magic, and her studies never failed to impress him. She had actually helped in the construction of the first mana bomb. She was quick with her tongue in all the right ways, and soft curves outlined her frame. Her brows furrowed as she pushed aside her neatly short hair – black hair, as she'd once told him. Magic swirled around her body, shimmering silks barely covering her breasts and butt while leaving all else exposed.

"And I thought you'd have been happy to see me, my lord." She pouted. "What with all the commotion lately, I thought you'd have liked some company."

"If I wanted you, I'd have sent for you." He deadpanned.

"That's not very nice." She grumbled. "I just wanted to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised." He answered. "But I don't have time for this right now. I'm waiting for one of my lieutenants to bring me her plans."

"'Her?'" Kalyne questioned. Illidan crossed his arms.

"Yes, her." He stated, staring hard at his consort.

"But what for?" She asked.

"It is not your place to question me." He growled.

Kalyne said nothing but an ugly grimace crossed her pretty face. Illidan bit his tongue. Though he had a few things he'd like to say to her regarding her audacity, he'd rather not stir up trouble with the women in the Den. It was likely that Kalyne had spies set up outside the door, waiting to see who showed up. She'd know it was Lilythae soon enough, but all the same: he owed her no explanations for anything.

Kalyne absolutely could have been a member of the Illidari. She could have survived the transformation with no problems, but she was far too lazy. She had no interest in fighting. She much preferred the lavish finery that the Den offered, where many of the women there had wanted to be demon hunters but were held back by their limited power. Needless to say not many liked Kalyne, but they were smart enough to be frightened of her. Many of the shady things that occurred within the confines of the Den were done under her instructions, such as the random poisonings of girls she didn't especially like.

She was vicious and entirely merciless, and though Illidan rather admired her strength he found her to be far too petty. It might have been cute in the beginning, but as time went on she became more and more unhinged. She was powerful enough to mess with the enslaved demons, the other women, and even the demon hunters if she found them too off-putting. He'd very quickly learned that even just saying someone's name in her presence could lead to massive amounts of trouble for the unfortunate soul. Though he knew it had to be her, there was never any kind of incriminating evidence. It would be difficult to just get rid of her.

Though he was loathe to admit it, Kalyne could get away with whatever she wanted. She knew how to hide things until it was too late for him to do anything about it, and though she'd never had the bravery to go after one of his personal lieutenants he didn't want to take the risk. Not this close to the attack.

"Though I appreciate your visit." Illidan stated. "I do have to wait for her to show up. Please return to the Den. I'll call when I need you."

"Fiiiine." She pouted. "But you have been neglecting me an awful lot lately. Next time bring me down to the springs. Marhail is cute, but I'm better."

"Duly noted."

And with that she left, taking her tantalizing magic with her. One thing was abundantly certain. He needed to keep Kalyne away from Lilythae.

/*\

"No, you were right the first time." Illidan stated, shortly after the lieutenant explained her reasoning. "You overthought it." He moved the tactical piece to a different part of the map.

"But if I put the soldiers there, doesn't that give the demons access to the road?" Lilythae asked, biting her lip.

"It does, but not for long. The way you have this set up is smart, but if you want to focus on getting the gates open first you have to do it fast."

"I see." She grimaced. Illidan tilted his head at her.

"You disagree?" He asked. Quickly she shook her head no.

"No, not at all. I just wanted to work this out so that we had as little contact with them as possible until I got the gates open to minimize the losses." She explained. "But this does make more sense. But it also puts the damn things in our way. If there's something powerful in their ranks they could take out so many soldiers." She snarled, glaring at the map.

"You're overthinking it." Illidan repeated. "Be careful of that. Thinking about something too much can be just as bad as not thinking enough. Prepare for the worst, but don't behave as though it's a certainty."

"That's very optimistic of you, my lord." Lilythae remarked.

"Perhaps." He answered. "But the demons have surely heard of the attack on the Black Temple. They'll be underestimating us greatly. I don't think there will be any pitlords or the like down there."

"I hope not." She murmured. "But other than that, my lord, are my battle plans satisfactory?"

"After my alterations, I'd say they're perfect." He stated, momentarily turning to glance out the window. Were those more adventurers?

"…Thank you, my lord." She stated, though she certainly didn't sound grateful. He smiled faintly as he sent word to the guards at the Warden's Cage.

"It's a nonissue." Illidan wandered back to her side. He looked her up and down and found that she was steadily gazing back at him. A moment of silence passed before she spoke again,

"Did you need something else of me, my lord?" She asked evenly, completely unfazed when he reached out a single finger and moved it along one of the swirling tattoos on her shoulder.

"Perhaps." He murmured.

"You know that there is one order I _will_ refuse to obey, my lord." She growled as his fingers slid down her arm.

"Then I'll have to think of one that you'll be pleased to answer." He retorted. He grasped her wrist and spun her to face him. "You won't lay with me. I won't press the issue. However I can think of plenty of other requests." Swiftly he pinned her up against the wall.

"This again?" She asked, unimpressed. "I don't much like being restrained." She muttered.

"Too bad." He answered, before placing his lips against hers once more. And once more he received no reaction from her. She didn't resist but she didn't answer his call either.

It was completely maddening.

"Why?" He asked. "Why do you do nothing?"

"Mainly because I am not sure why it is you want me." She answered, looking up at him. "There are so many other girls who would be willing to let you take them in an instant. If you went down to the Den right at this moment and asked for volunteers to spend the night in your bed there would be a stampede to this chamber." Her brows furrowed, making her look almost troubled. "It's been almost a year since the first time you made such a request of me. Why do you persist?"

Illidan should have put more thought into his answer.

"You're the only one who says no." He said. A grimace crossed her pretty face.

"I understand. So I'm a challenge. Nothing more. You do not admire me in any way." She said, turning her head.

"That is not what I meant." He said, then he paused. He had gained an admission from her, the day before the attack. The day he'd been going to kill her. Perhaps this was a situation where an equal trade might benefit him? "I admire you in many ways. You're clever, powerful, beautiful. Your skill in battle is daunting. You are loyal to a fault. And I know you admire _me_. You told me. So why do you refuse?" She looked at him sideways.

"Because I want more than admiration." She answered simply. "Perhaps it sounds a little cliché of me to say, but after this war and after all the demons are gone I want to have a semi-normal life. I want to have love and to be happy and to never see a Light-damned succubus or infernal or even an imp ever again." She was almost ranting near the end.

"You and me both." He quipped, letting his hands drop from her wrists. "So it is love that you want?" For some reason, the question brought a small smile to Lilythae's face as she looked up at him.

"Isn't that what most of us want?" She asked. "Is that not why the Illidari have affairs of intimacy? Isn't it why there were so many weeping at the funeral this morning?" Carefully she reached up and tousled the hair at the base of Illidans' horns. "Isn't it why we wear these horns and wings and blindfolds? Because we wish to avenge the love we've all lost?" Quickly she pulled back, as though only just realizing the enormous line she'd crossed. "Sorry…" She muttered.

But she didn't have to be sorry. She was completely right. He told her so, and bent down to kiss her once more.

For a split second, she very softly kissed back.

/*\

"Don't be sorry." He whispered. "You aren't wrong."

Lilythae did not love Lord Illidan. That was the first and foremost thought in her mind as he pressed his lips against hers. At the same time she did hold affection for him.

In the aftermath of that attack, that one awful week where she'd lost the two people she loved most, Illidan had offered her sanctuary. He'd noticed that she'd been the one who burned everything to the ground. He'd noticed that she'd killed all those people without really meaning to. He noticed the limp bundle she'd held in her arms, and he and his followers had been the only ones to show her compassion.

He had a lieutenant help her dig the tiny grave. The woman had even let her cry for a while before she left Lilythae to her own devices.

But little did she know, the Illidari had been following her. She had been so distraught, so hopeless, that she'd wandered into the forest. She'd tied the noose and was ready to jump, when the same woman appeared again. She made her offer under her lords' instruction, and Lilythae took it. The Illidari might give her purpose in a world where she had nothing left. She could be reforged by blood and fel and become something new. She could let Lilythae the Mage have the death she desired, and Lilythae the Demon Hunter could wander the world in search of vengeance.

Illidan had given her a chance. In her darkest moment he'd given her something to hold on to, and though he could be something of an arrogant bastard sometimes, she would still follow him anywhere.

Yet, despite all that, she did not quite love him.

All the same she kissed him back, just barely, but enough for him to rumble in approval. He didn't hesitate to wrap an arm around her and pull her close. He was quick to tug at her silver hair piece and unravel her braid. He deepened the kiss all too quickly, and when he finally pulled back her breathing had gone quick and shallow. She could feel the blood rushing to her face and her eyes remained half-lidded. Her hands had landed on his bare chest, requiring both intimacy and space, and she looked up at his blindfold through her long white hair.

She stared at the spots where his eyes should be, and she got the sense that he was staring back. His thumb absently stroked her hip, and he placed a tiny peck on her lips before he swiftly lifted her up and tossed her onto his bed. She yelped in surprise as he climbed atop her placing kisses all along her neck, hot and insistent and demanding. It wasn't until he'd pushed a knee between hers that she froze up.

Immediately he pulled back, but then she was wrenched up off of the bed. Had he pulled her up with him? No. Her eyes flicked to his face, and just at the corner of her sight she saw it. It took every ounce of her self-control not to burst out laughing.

Illidan had gotten his horns caught on hers. They were interlocked, like a pair of stags that had just gotten into a fight. The look on his face was so awkward, so utterly mortified, she couldn't help it. She giggled.

/*\

Malfurion watched the scene with interest. Though his wife didn't quite approve of the arcane arts, that didn't mean the archdruid didn't appreciate their use. Often, he called the remaining Highborne mages here to help him scry. Even if Illidan wasn't exactly a friend anymore, he also wasn't an enemy. He was still Malfurions' brother, and like any good sibling Malfurion still worried over him.

Ever since the incident in Northrend, Illidan had trapped himself brooding on his little rock and bedding anything that walked on two legs. He checked in through the scrying magic at least once a week, if not more. Illidan was trying to do something good. Maybe his methods were a little unorthodox – okay so they were a lot unorthodox – but that wasn't the point. Even if he seemed to be drifting towards insanity day after day the druid knew that Illidan had gone into this with the best of intentions. At least he hoped so.

Inwardly Malfurion sighed. He knew that perhaps it had been a little cruel, to pursue the woman he knew they both loved. He'd known it would break Illidans' fragile heart. He knew it would destroy the relationship between the three of them, if only because Illidan was so sensitive. He'd done his damnedest to get her attention and impress her. He served under Ravencrest, one of the only non-Highborne to do so. He fought in the War of Ancients. He even lost his eyes to Sargeras to trick the demon into thinking he belonged to the Legion and it had all been for Tyrande, to show that he was worthy of her attention. In that respect, it had been all for naught. If Illidan had no other redeeming qualities, it was that he knew how to love deeply and with his entirety. Malfurion knew that his twin brother had never truly stopped loving Tyrande, but new developments led Malfurion to believe that maybe there was hope.

He could understand what Illidan would see in the little blood elf who wouldn't let him touch her. Like Illidan she understood the loss of love, even if by different circumstances. She treated his brother with respect and did not siphon off his power the way that some of his concubines did. She was loyal to Illidan but she saw him, and though she held him at arm's length she also seemed to hold affection for him in spite of his many flaws.

Tonight, that all changed. For the first time ever the woman, Lilythae he thought her name was, kissed Illidan back. For the first time ever, he saw Illidan express a side of himself he hadn't shown to his concubines or any other creature he took to bed. Sometimes the archdruid couldn't tell if it was a woman or a demon.

No, come to think of it, Malfurion had seen this before. The change had started several months into her arrival at Illidan's base. When she was in his presence, Lilythae brought out something in Illidan that was kind, humorous, and almost gentle. Malfurion knew feigned confidence when he saw it. He'd grown up with Illidan. He was straightforward with his desires, always disappointed when she shot him down. Though he appeared domineering he approached her hesitantly, respecting her space. He bombarded her with trivial requests and missions, just for an excuse to speak with her. He tried to get her attention from all different angles until something stuck, and as he watched the woman giggle at her predicament Malfurion couldn't help but smile.

Perhaps Illidan had finally found what he was looking for. Malfurion couldn't remember the last time he'd heard his brother laugh.


End file.
